


The Weight of the World

by speedzone



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Misato is the protagonist and Shinji is her guardian, other character changes too, shenanigans ensue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22449922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedzone/pseuds/speedzone
Summary: Misato Katsuragi is 14 years old, has no dad, and has a sneaking suspicion that it's all downhill from here.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	1. Start of Header

The rumble felt through the streets induced a slight sense of panic in her chest.

Misato Katsuragi wasn't exactly sure she knew what it was coming from, but honestly, ominous rumbling scarcely proved to _ever_ be a good sign. And yet, here she stood, like a lone bowling pin waiting to be struck down the gutter; visible, vulnerable. She had a phone in her hand that was taken drowsily off of the receiver within the telephone booth. No luck, it seems like all the lines were disconnected due to the ongoing evacuation. She was _supposed_ to have some kind of ride to her father's former place of work, something about an urgent summoning that required her cooperation? Honestly, she wasn't sure, but given that it had something to do with her dad, it had to be important. 

The photo she had gotten from the man who was supposed to be picking her up, for reference, wasn't much to look at. He didn't seem terribly dreamy or even very imposing at all. A lithe, soft looking man with features not all that inconsistent with a model you might see in a sweater catalog. His name was _Shinji Ikari_ , evidently, some kind of colonel - which is honestly the most surprising part about him, from what she can tell.

Her thought is cut somewhat short, though. Suddenly, the eruption of gravel and dirt around her signaled that something was _incredibly wrong_. Feverishly, Misato stumbled back, felt her balance going as she turned on a heel, trying to save her footing. Thankfully, she hadn't fallen over quite yet, but nearly as soon as she had sighed in relief, the next large crunch was enough to send her toppling. Her panicked eyes dart behind herself, trying to get a passing look at whatever was turning her body into a rag-doll - the answer became terrifyingly clear in a matter of seconds. Standing before, and very much _above_ her, appeared to be some kind of **beast**. Its features were alien, unfamiliar, and she wasn't even sure it had noticed her. It seemed to be preoccupied with the many flying vehicles that were attempting to shoot at it. Its translucent appendages swung through the metal as if it were shredding cheese - a billow of smoke left in its wake as Misato heard screaming. A tremor worked its way from the soles of her feet to the tip of her spine, perhaps it was time to make peace with death? It seemed close. 

That is, it might have been, had she not then heard the squeal of nearby tires. Who was that? The passenger door swung open as she balked, was that...Mr. Ikari? The one from the photo? He seemed panicked, waved his hand in a frantic motion which seemed to signal that she should get in as fast as she could.

"Sorry for the delay!" He managed to get out, "Underestimated the traffic!"

Yeah? She can definitely imagine people were hightailing it quickly out of town if _this_ _thing_ was anywhere nearby. Although her footsteps are wobbly to begin with, the urgency of the situation quickly gets her blood pumping. Her legs stumble forward, one after the other as she slides into the car-seat.

"C-Come on, let's go!" She shouts, pointing ahead. She notices a conspicuous lack of pedal to the metal, here.  
"Seatbelt?" The man rose an eyebrow expectantly, as if scolding.  
"Is now the _time?!_ " She protests, to which he simply shrugs and turns the wheel, very quickly making haste away from the scene. She snaps the buckle in that moment, just in case he would badger it further. He smiles in silent acknowledgement as he hears the clicking.

"Seriously though, I really do apologize...if I'd been any later, I'm pretty sure you would have gotten crushed." His tone is very much apologetic, and despite his claims he doesn't sound particularly proud of his performance today. "I'm Shinji Ikari, I uhm...sent you the letter of correspondence about your summoning."

Misato nods, crosses her arms softly as she tries to slump back in the seat and get a hold of her nerves.  
"My...summoning, right. What is all this for, exactly?"

To that, the man's eyebrows raise a bit further. Seems he's just as surprised as she is about all of this.  
"You mean they didn't tell you in the letter?"

"Nope. Not a word. I just knew that my father used to work for this organization...so I figured it must be a big deal."

" **Used to**...so he retired, then?"

"He's dead."

A choke of awkward silence. Mr. Ikari's fingers drum silently on the top end of his steering wheel as he swallows dryly.  
"I'm... _sorry_."

"Don't worry about it...I never really got to know him that well anyway. We had sort of a...complicated relationship."

"Is...that why you accepted the invitation then? Maybe hoping that the trip might enlighten you about some of his life?"

"I don't know, maybe? That sounds like a better answer than any other I could think of, right now."

In truth, she hadn't thought too hard about it. On a _subconscious_ level, though, she doesn't think Mr. Ikari is far from correct. It certainly seems like the kind of reason she would have for agreeing to come out to the middle of nowhere. The silence envelops the ride, as the car drifts through the low light of a tunnel. The further away they got from the creature they had fled, the more she could feel herself beginning to calm down just the slightest bit - though she was still understandably on edge. Given that, when the man speaks again, she nearly jumps in place - seriously, don't startle her like that!

"I get it though, parents can be kind of...weird. I promise that works both ways."

"What do you mean?"

" _Being_ a parent is pretty weird too. I...would say things between me and my son are pretty complicated, too."

"Oh...I see."

The silence that continues to linger is...awkward. She's not entirely sure what to say for right now, considering that this guy is a bit of a relative stranger. Before she can worry too hard about how antisocial she must seem right now, though, he rummages through a bag to his side distractedly. His eyes remain on the road, but his grip seems to settle on a small rectangular object.

"Oh...by the way, you'll probably need to do a little bit of reading on the way. I know it's a little sudden but it contains some information about HQ that's going to come in handy." He hands her what appears to be some kind of bound manual. On the front it says " **Welcome to NERV.** "

"NERV?" She queries, an eyelid lowered skeptically. "Sounds like some kind of _secret_ _anime organization_ or something..."

"That would probably be a lot cooler than what it's actually like." He remarks. His tone has a hint of humor to it, but it seems almost somewhat _bitter_ , too. It catches her off guard, but in a way that actually makes her laugh slightly. It's not a belly laugh, more of a small chuckle, but it doesn't go unnoticed by Shinji.

"N-Not that I'm saying it's _lame_ or anything...i-it's a lot of important work that has to be done. It's just very..."

"Boring?" She interjects.

"...Mundane."

"That's basically the same thing."

"Yes, but my way of saying it sounds a little more charitable."

She'd accept that explanation as the car pulled into what looked like some kind of lift. The sound of her idle giggling was upset by the slow shake of the descending ground. At first, she begins to panic again - but it soon fades when she sees what they're being pulled toward.

"Holy _crap_ , is that--?"

Shinji nods, rolls his window down to get a look outside of it. 

"It is. The Geofront of Tokyo-3. This city is the last bastion of humanity's fighting spirit."

"...Wow, that sounded _really_ anime organization-like."

"I was going for something poignant, but sure."

Something about this rapport made her feel less like she was heading toward a terrible situation. Unfortunately, what she _felt_ and what was _actually true_ tended to be far from identical.


	2. Asynchronous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving to NERV HQ, Misato learns the reason behind her summoning, and the kind of price she might have to be willing to pay.

"Is it always so _impossible_ to find where you're going in this place?"

Misato is sure they'd drifted along the same conveyor about thirty times now, and Mr. Ikari didn't seem to have any clearer idea of where he was going. Of course, given that he was her _chauffeur_ of sorts, he did a much better job of seemingly pretending to know where he was going. 

"Relax, I'm sure we'll get there any minute now. You just gotta be patient and endure, that's my life's motto."

"Is it really?" She squints.

"...Well, no, it _sounds_ nice, but if it depends on frequency of use...my motto would probably be **oh crap I left the stove on**."

Yeah, that sounds about right. He didn't seem like the most collected adult she'd ever known, frankly, even if he was friendly enough. Something tells her that this guy probably has a lot more of a harried home life than his professional photo identification would have suggested. Still though, the rank has to mean _something_ \- a colonel is nothing to sneeze at. It makes the fact that he seems so sheepish even _more_ of a seeming mystery. Unfortunately, though, that train of thought looked like it would have to wait. The speakers blared from above with a dull, droning, automated voice.

" **WOULD COLONEL IKARI PLEASE REPORT TO DOCTOR SOHRYU. REPEAT** \--"

"Doctor Sohryu?" Misato's tone becomes a bit more curious, but when her gaze trails to meet the older's - he doesn't seem too happy. Granted, it wasn't a look of total disdain or blind hatred or anything, but he at least seemed...how to put this? He seemed like he **dreaded** the encounter.

"Asuka..." He sighs, seemingly saying it more to himself than to her. Is there some kind of history between these two? Misato can't help but wonder, but her potential inquiry is cut short by the sliding open of an automatic door they'd come to stop at. There, standing at the threshold of the door itself, was a woman with bright red hair, and shimmering blue eyes. She was wearing an expression that could be best described as somewhere in the middle of **sleep deprived** and **on her second wind**. Needless to say, there were bags under her eyes, and a coffee mug in her hand. She stood just _slightly_ taller than Mr. Ikari.

"Oh, _there_ you are..." She grumbles, having taken a moment to seemingly even register his presence.

" **Pleasure** as always." Mr. Ikari is quick to voice his mutual distaste.

"Get stuck on the escalators again?"

"That was _one time_ , and you know it. And I didn't get _stuck_ , I just--"

She holds a hand up to silence him.  
"If you're done? Can we continue? To do the, uh, y'know... **work**? That we have to do today?"

"...Right. Right." He takes a breath, face scrunching slightly as he appears desperate to clench his fingers upon the bridge of his nose. He refrains, though, and instead gestures toward Misato, as if presenting the world's most dull science-fair project. "Misato Katsuragi, retrieved as ordered. She came along with...pretty much no incident, really, I was a bit surprised."

" _Dummkopf_..." She mutters, "Of course she came without incident, with an angel stomping around above ground. I'd flag down a kidnapper if I was in the city while _that_ thing was loose."

"Angel?" Misato raises concern. That sounded familiar, and **bad**. Familiar in a **bad way**. There's a slight silence that hangs in the air, and for the first time since they begun talking, it seems the two adults' eyes met with an understanding, rather than animosity. Doctor Sohryu raises her hand slightly, diverting her gaze back to the door she came from, and motioning as she walks.

"This way. We have some things to talk about with you, but it will be easier if we can show you some things, first."

* * *

The strange carrier they'd stepped into rumbled silently as the facility's ambiance consumed Misato's thoughts. She didn't know exactly what to make of this place, yet, and even _less_ about why her father was related to it. Then there was the matter of that... **creature** , the _angel_. Where did it come from? And what did it want? These thoughts swim through her head with no clear answers offered, and though she can hear the adults talking, she's not tuned into it. Their words are just background noise, like the settling static of an untuned television. 

The lift jitters to a halt.

"We're here. This way." Doctor Sohryu steps out first, with Mr. Ikari staying slightly behind as he ushers Misato toward the line. She steps out onto the ground, but the light is so _dim_ that she can't quite make anything out except for her own form and that of the two others. 

"What _is_ this place...? It's kind of giving me the creeps."

"Well, if I could find the damn light-switch on this thing..." the Doctor fidgets with a remote in her palm, brows narrowing in irritation as she appears to dart between options to see which button she should actually press. "Oh." Click. The lights pop right on, brightly invading her eyes as she squints weakly, adjusting very poorly from the prior darkness. There, sitting in the center of the room, Misato's eyes fixate on something terrifying.

"It's another one-!!" Is what she instinctively calls out, arms raising in defense as her heart leaps into her throat. But the form does not move, and neither do the adults, they simply look at her with a sort of slight befuddlement. Then Doctor Sohryu's eyes track toward where Misato is staring, and a small chortle is earned for her trouble.

" _Nein_. An angel isn't what _this_ thing is. This is actually the best chance we have of stopping them."

"Stopping them...? So...it's a weapon?" Misato squints, finally getting a better look at the thing. It's what looks to be the typical image of a **giant robot**. It has a strange quality of strained musculature, hunched posture and heavy curves. The unit appears mostly purple, save for some red highlights adorning some of its plating.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. It might be more fitting to call it a _combat unit_ , though."

"But the _proper_ name, is..." Mr. Ikari chimes in, tone leading.

"I'm getting to it, pipe down." She huffs, takes a pause as if to intentionally antagonize him for interrupting. "This is the _synthetic life-form_ , _Evangelion Unit-01_. These things are the only barrier between mankind and total annihilation. Sick, huh?"

"Very sick." Misato replies, greenly.

"See, I told you, Ikari...no _teenager_ wouldn't think a giant death machine is cool as hell."

"No, sick as in... _sick_ sick..." Misato stammers, holding her chest.

"Oh _gross_ \- not **here**. Do you know how much of a pain it is to bring the janitorial staff all this way down?"

Mr. Ikari puts a consoling hand on Misato's shoulder, pats lightly.  
"Just...take some deep breaths, I know it's a lot to take in at once." His tone is almost _apologetic_ sounding, and Misato is beginning to understand why. Just what the hell is this thing and why is it important to **her**? What did any of this have to do with...? Her thoughts trail, verbalize themselves instead.

"What does any of this have to do with...why I was called here? With my father...?"

A hush falls over the room, the other two's eyes grow a tad bit more avoidant. Misato feels more frustrated _now_ than she had a moment ago. Seriously? What is going on with these people? Can nobody ever give her a straight answer? She's about to command a breaking of the silence again, until the task is rather unexpectedly performed _for_ her. A voice carries from above, near some sort of observation deck, it looked like. The voice echoes softly through the room, though seems to be carried slightly by the presence of a clip-on microphone tucked neatly into the speaker's collar.

"I suppose there _is_ a need for transparency, at this juncture." Those words are spoken by a rather _pale_ looking woman. Her features look delicate, but slightly off, like they're made of _polymer_ , or some other type of material chalkier than skin. Her eyes are a vibrant, commanding red, and her hair looks as if touched by frost, the smallest tint of winter blue dusting around its edges. Her hands cross gingerly along the railing, eyes _on_ Misato, but feeling almost as if they are looking _through_ her instead of _at_ her. Misato clutches gently, instinctively, at her arm as she looks up.

" **Commander Ayanami**...this is a surprise. We didn't think you'd be in until later." Mr. Ikari is the first to speak again, seeming rather surprised by this person's appearance, but not at all unfamiliar with her. **Commander** , huh? So she's the highest on the totem pole around here, then? She certainly carries the kind of commanding presence necessary for a head honcho, Misato would argue.

" _You_ didn't think she'd be in until later." the Doctor chides, teeth clicking idly. "If you'd been _on time_ , you'd have gotten the memo, but unfortunately it seems we're running a little **late**."

"Hey, _you_ try driving _against_ the tide of evacuees during a freaking **angel attack**."

"I'm not saying it would be _easy_...but I would definitely do better than you."

"Oh, that is _so_ rich-"

"Do you two _mind_...?" Words are sharp, icy, and concise as their speaker. They didn't even need to be _loud_ for the other two adults to immediately realize their place and fall silent. The commander's eyes drift to the side tiredly as she takes breath, seemingly ready to shift the course of conversation again. "Now then... **Misato Katsuragi** , is it?"

"Y-Yes?" Misato stands to attention, feeling more nervous looking at the _boss_ of this place than at the giant robot right below her.

"The Evangelion Unit, as I'm sure you're aware is the only instrument NERV has to combat the threat of an angel attack. These creatures have a nigh limitless amount of destructive power, and if they are not stopped, to put it bluntly...another **impact** may occur."

"...An **impact**." Misato swallows, this time no longer questioning the words she repeats. She _knows_ what an **impact** is, in this context. It's all they had ever learned about since the turn of the millennium. There had been _two_ so far, near cataclysmic events that left the world in such shambles afterward that it's a wonder humanity even scrounged together the pieces they still had. The **Second Impact** had occurred very shortly before her birth, granted, so she hadn't known a world that was ever untouched by it. Still though, she'd heard plenty, and the secondhand accounts were grisly enough not to desire a **rerun**.

"Yes." The commander responds, hushed, solemn. "You understand why we cannot allow that to happen while we have a chance to do something about it. With that being said, your Father was **Doctor Katsuragi** , yes?"

"That's right." She nods tentatively.

"He was a valued member of our effort. You must be proud."

"I...don't really know much about him, actually. We didn't spend much time together."

"Oh...? A shame, then. Though I suppose given his position, that would be understandable. Dedication does come with its prices, after all."

"What does any of this have to do with him, though...?" A pause. Misato's voice quivers. "I mean- this _whole time_ I was thinking maybe...I don't know...I was called her for some _reason_ that could give me more of a perspective on him, or what he _did_ or...something...?" Her tone is slightly hopeful, despite its dour undertones. Unfortunately, it's almost instantly shot down by the commander.

"I'm afraid it's of no consequence so grand. You see, our personnel have very comprehensive files dedicated to their contact information, personal details, etcetera...The Evangelions can only be effectively piloted by children around your particular stage of adolescence. There's a _list_ of how many children are coming around that age this year and several afterward, and we're...a bit **short of hands** lately. Ergo-"

"So you just...got to my place in line, that's _it_...? There's no other reason I was summoned?" Her voice becomes harsher, more desperate as she turns her head to look at the adults who were quarreling not minutes ago. Doctor Sohryu's gaze is distant, and turned away. Mr. Ikari's is more willing to meet her own, but can't bear to remain fixated for long before he too turns his head.

That seemed like pretty clear confirmation.

"So..." Misato clears her throat, tone hollow, cold, and embittered. "You're basically asking me to diligently play my part as your good little _convenient_ , **on-file guinea pig** , hop into your giant war-machine, and fight a _monster_ to the death. Sound about right?"

"...I would, perhaps, put it more delicately." The commander responds. "But effectively, yes. If what you wish to hear is some kind of confirmation that you were destined, or specially marked for the task...I'm afraid you'd have better luck sticking your head in a book than taking the job. There are others we have yet to contact, and though the situation is dire, I cannot force you to agree if you've been... **thoroughly disenchanted**."

Bile rises in the girl's throat, ready to lash out. She _knew_ this was a waste of time. She knew she couldn't trust any of these people, least of all the empty promises and false hopes of a dad who'd never cared anyway. She's so close to screaming, to telling this ice-queen _bitch_ to go screw herself. But before she can muster so much as a growl, the commander's attention diverts to a panel of screens to her side.

"Nagisa." She hums flatly. A chirp and click signal the incoming transmission of another member of personnel speaking. The voice is light, almost _carefree_ , and seems male.

"Yes, Commander?~"

"...Prepare Ritsuko for stand-by, it appears as though our replacement is unwilling to participate."

"Mmh, mmh...right, well, I can certainly _do_ that, Ma'am. But are you sure...? Ritsuko-chan has sure been through the wringer, lately...and she was only hospitalized a few days ago. I don't think she's in any real shape to put up a fight."

"Putting up a fight is a miracle in and of itself, with the angels. You understand, all we need is someone who will sit in the cockpit, Ritsuko will agree. Even an injured pilot is better equipped than a **stubborn mule**." Misato's ears _burn_ at the sound of that.

"...Right, then. She'll be there shortly."

"Thank you."

The transmission seemingly ends, and the commander turns back to face them all. The sounds of wheels and clanking steel rumble down the adjacent hallway, and before Misato can interject, the door is already sliding open. What appears to be some kind of stretcher is wheeled out, a young blonde girl around Misato's own age laying across it. She looks incredibly worse for wear, fractures, bruises, bandages all over her...the works. If Misato didn't know any better, she'd have thought this was a _dummy_ meant for an anatomy class, rather than an actual person. But she noticeably breathes, eyes flickering briefly in contact with Misato's own before trailing back to the side.

"Hey...hey, hey..." Misato finally gets a word in. "Do you _see_ the condition this girl is in...?"

Silence.

"Hey! Commander!" She shouts. Doctor Sohryu and Mr. Ikari's shoulders both flinch. The commander raises a lone brow, leans over the railing inquisitively.

"Yes?"

"I **said** do you _see_ the condition this girl is in...?!"

"...I do, in fact."

"Then what the _hell_ are you doing sending somebody like her out to fight in her state?!"

"Utilizing the available material I have to work with. It seems my new shipment isn't interested in employment."

" **Screw you** , are you _seriously_ okay with this?"

"Whether I am _okay with this_ or not is irrelevant, Miss Katsuragi. What remains undeniable is that only two people in this room can pilot the Evangelion. And if the Evangelion is _not_ piloted, our world dies. It's not exactly a choice you have much time to ponder the specifics or ethics of. It is simply one that requires _doing_ , while thinking is a luxury we might be afforded later, should a **later** ever come."

Misato looks back to the girl, straining for breath. She seems unable to speak properly, but her eyes lock with Misato's fearfully for a moment. Misato bites the inside of her cheek, tasting blood as her fist clenches. Her eyes dart upward toward the commander yet again.

"...Just put me in the damn thing, already."

"Oh?"

"You want a **test subject** , right? Well, I'm not crazy about the idea...but I'm also not so _sick_ that I'd send a girl in her state out to do a job I can at least _try_."

"Sick...as in...?" Doctor Sohryu finally musters a small mutter.

" _Not_ as in vomit sick, like...sick as in morally outraged." Misato frowns.

" _Verstanden_."

Mr. Ikari gently trudges forward, kneels at eye level with her. She remains unmoving, unflinching as her gaze harshens toward him. He still seems too uncomfortable to look at her dead-on, but he tries anyway.  
"Are you **sure** about this...? I mean, you don't _have_ to pilot if you don't want to..."

"Of **course** I don't want to." Misato offers flatly. "None of this is something a kid should have to do. But it's either _me_...or it's her...and I think she deserves to get obliterated a little less than me, right now."

Mr. Ikari swallows uncomfortably. He seems to have no idea what words to offer in response, so he simply nods and stands back up. He glances toward several lingering personnel, speaking clearly, though with an apparent bit of hesitance.

"Prepare Unit-01, and the new pilot."

The table holding that lone girl begins its transfer back to where it came, Misato's eyes drifting toward it as she hears the sound of its wheels. She catches sight of the girl's face again, and though she's unsure if she's imagining it or not, she thinks she can make out _words_ that she's mouthing. " **Thank you** ". She takes a slight pause, sighs as she crosses her arms and follows the motioning hands of several technicians ready to get her suited. She can feel a rumble of ground above, but does not lose her focus. Besides, she already has a pretty good idea of what it is.

"Is that...?" An employee's voice quivers in the corner. Misato catches a glimpse of the commander, who _smiles_.

"The angel." She remarks, almost carelessly. "What good _timing_ we've managed."


	3. No Special Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the third angel now looming over Tokyo-3, will Misato be able to combat the creature with no prior battle experience?

The inside of the _entry-plug_ (as the staff called it) was instantly uncomfortable from the moment Misato climbed in.

Oh _Jesus_ , was it wet in here? She had picked out a cute outfit today, too. It figures that something like this was bound to happen to compound upon an already pretty miserable day. Still though, she had no time to complain, considering she was the last line of defense for an already severely injured pilot. She cannot _believe_ that icy commander was really ready to send someone in that condition back onto a battlefield. It's absurd.

"Ready?" The sound of Mr. Ikari's voice jolts her from her rage-filled stupor, which she really wishes it _hadn't_ because that forces her to confront the fact that she's scared. Being afraid is a passive, _vulnerable_ position, and Misato did not enjoy being prone. Being **pissed off** feels _much_ more active, like a sense of control is retained in the midst of it. Though she tries to chime in with a characteristic 'go-get-'em' attitude, it's obvious that the spunk is somewhat forced compared to usual.

"Of course! Let's just get this over with, you can treat me to dinner after for all the inconvenience you've caused me."

The colonel's chuckles are...awkward. They're not exactly the kind of enabling enthusiasm she'd wished to hear. Instead, he sounds _exactly_ like someone who realized she was avoiding an elephant in the room. And why shouldn't she? There are **giant robots** and death creatures lurking about. An elephant or two should be her right to turn a blind eye to, at this point. But of course, as is typical, no factor of this situation was under her control. And none of it seemed like it would be anytime soon.

"Just...try not to focus too much on the commander for now. She's a good leader, really! But...if you're mad, your synchronization rate could suffer, and--"

"And _what_...? I'll just be easier cannon fodder at that point. Real **touching concern**." She can't help but let the _bite_ slip back into her tone. Like _she's_ the one whose attitude needed to change around here.

" **No**...!" He pleads, trying to dissuade her suspicions of indifference on his part. "It's true...you won't be in as much control that way. But your success on this mission...everyone's hoping for it, but _I'm_ just hoping you'll be okay. Can you...trust me when I say that I mean that?"

"...I'll think about it."

"Maybe you can think more about it when I treat you to food."

At that, a small smirk returns to her face. _There's_ that trademark Misato charm.  
"Hope you're not strapped for cash."

The banter is easily something she could distract herself longer with, but there isn't enough room for it. Overtop the Colonel's voice, booming instructions from personnel return to their mutual doling out. Their sharp, raised voices drown out any hope of conversation, assuring that everything is operational and that she's ready for launch. With as many checks as they have to make, Misato wouldn't be surprised if they started listing out her _morning routine_ at this point ("Did she brush her teeth before getting in? Check, captain.)

The feeling of her stomach _floating_ though, as her seat buckles, is a good sign that she's moving up the elevator shaft now. Did she miss the word **launch**? It's possible, she's been keeping up this inner monologue for the sole purpose of talking herself through when she eventually has to see-- **oh god** , there it is. There it is. Oh _gross_ , it looks even worse up close like this. Her brows furrow, knit together in a frenzy of both disgust and sudden panic. Yeah, that's an _angel_ alright. An angel only a mother could love.

"Misato, can you see the target?" Mr. Ikari's voice returns.

"Unfortunately." She responds, feigning a gag.

"Right, well...it can see you too, so be on guard."

"I'd love to be, but how do I...control this?"

"Don't worry--"

" **Hard sell**."

"Let me _finish_...it's not like a typical vehicle. The synchronization was for the sake of directly interfacing you to the controls. You should be able to think about moving normally and replicate the same effect with the Eva."

Okay, what? That makes... **no sense** but alright. Before she can even raise a confused objection, he follows up.

"Just-- don't think too hard about it. Trust me, it's kind of crazy to me too."

" **Don't think**. Got it, I'm good at that." She gives a bewildered shake of the head, feels the viewport of the gargantuan follow suit. Well hey, it really _does_ respond to input. Unfortunately this means that she really _has_ been in control this whole time, and the poor befuddled abomination before her is watching her look around like a braindead stargazer who forgot which direction the sky was. Its patience (if you could call it that) is thoroughly diminished as its taffy-like arms fly across rooftops to grapple her arms. 

"Ow-- shit!" She grimaces, fumbles to try and swat the thing away. The colonel buzzes in her ear, something about the feeling of pain being part of the synchronization? Her **real arm** isn't in any danger? Well great, that would be fantastic if it didn't still feel like she was getting her skin wrapped in a rug burrito and fashioned into a rug _twizzler_. She yelps, thinks about kicking the thing and watching as her-- err-- the **Eva's** foot collides with the creature's midsection and sends it tumbling back like a top heavy bowling pin. A cloud of dust settles around it as it blinks in a (somewhat ominous) sense of confusion.

"Oh, dude, hey I hit it! **Yeah** , take that ugly! Who's the boss?!"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, pilot, but with all due respect, you've landed a hit."

"And _he's_ landed one too, we're currently one for one. Those are _good odds_. -- Wait, **he**. Is it a he? Do angels have--"

" **Really not the time**."

Oh crap here come the hands again. Misato tries to pedal back, but neglects to weave past the very prevalent _mass of concrete_ behind her. Woops. That's a building. And not only does it get in her way, but if keeps her from properly avoiding the grab. This time, the fate of her mechanical avatar's arms is not so ambiguous, they _snap like twigs_ and she lets out a howl, wincing from the (perceived) pain as she grinds her teeth.

"Now you've done it--"

"Misato, this was bad idea, I'm sorry!"

"What, are you telling me to pull back _now_...?!"

"We can get--"

" **Your other pilot**? I don't think so! I can _do this_ by myse--"

The angel grabs the horned fixture above her head and sends the Eva flying back into the wall. The lights flicker, Misato is in the dark. What's going on? Everything is so quiet now, but she knows it's not over yet. Unless it's **over**. In which case, she's got reason to panic even more. She's about to bang on the walls to demand she be extracted from the plug when suddenly she feels...something. It's odd. The lights haven't returned, her _eyes_ aren't open...but her chest feels like it's swelling. Swelling with something primal, something awake. Something **alive**.

She hears a roar and her gaze goes white.

* * *

"Misato!"

The teenager's eyes fire open as she looks up. Where is she? What happened? And why is this ceiling so...drab?

"...This place looks like a dentist's office."

A sigh of relief exits who she now realizes is the Colonel, sitting very worrisome next to her bedside. Wait, bedside? She's in a bed?

" **Close**. But it's actually a doctor's...you're in medical care, do you...remember anything?"

"I remember having my arms-- the uh...the _thing's_ arms crack in half and get cold clocked into a building, yeah. After that though, nothing."

"...Well, it's odd, but you know...? The Eva kept fighting."

"It **what**? Like it autopiloted?"

"I guess? But it was different. I've never seen anything like it before...it was like it had a will of its own, and it was... _pissed_."

"Maybe that was my ghost coming to haunt the angel from the grave." She smugly chuckles.

"You're not dead." He's quick to remind her.

"Oh, wasn't _entirely_ sure. Good to know."

"...You...seem to be okay though, after some initial checks. You suffered some minor fractures, but it's nothing a bit of bedrest won't fix."

"You're gonna help me on my commute, right?"

"Back to where you **were** living? Oh, no...no."

"Then I'm shit out of luck?"

"No, no I mean-- I arranged it with the staff...you'll...be staying under my roof while you're here. If you're part of NERV Personnel, you can't very well have no place to go."

"Wait wait wait." Misato waves a hand, sits up to rub her temples. "I appreciate the hospitality and all but...when did I ever say I was going to join NERV?"

"Well, you _did_ pilot."

"And if I've lost my taste for it?"

He squints,  
"You don't seem to have."

"Just answer the question will you? Geez, you're such a wet-towel."

"A...? Okay, ignoring that... _blatant slander_ \-- obviously we can't... **make you** pilot, but the Commander seems insistent that you've got some kind of...spark of talent. And plus, if you decided to leave, given everything you've _already_ seen...you'd have to go through some pretty obnoxious constant surveillance for life after this."

"So, become a child soldier lapdog for a bunch of white lab-coats, or get the Men In Black breathing down my neck until I shuffle off the mortal coil. Sounds _great_. Fun choices."

"I...wouldn't put you through this myself, you know...it's not my decision to make."

"No, you'd just sit there and enable it is all."

An awkward pause lingers between the two. Mr. Ikari coughs into his curled fist as he looks to be excusing himself.  
"W-Well...should we get that dinner I talked about?"

"That was for if I won, right...? _I_ didn't win, the Eva did. Why don't you give _it_ dinner?" She puts on a more characteristically _moody teen_ kind of pout.

"Yes, well, even if that's technically true, you still got in the cockpit. That's more than I would probably do at your age. Besides, I don't think the Eva is much for conversation...and if it were, I would be even _more_ terrified than I already am on a daily basis."

He goads her into another genuine laugh, he's got to stop doing that when she's trying to be angry.  
"Alright, alright, I guess I'll grace you with my presence...for food _and_ for fighting."

"And what have I done to deserve it?" He postures overdramatically, playing along with her theatrics. "Nothing."

"You're damn right!" She gives a matter-of-fact 'hmph', hands on her hips for extra emphasis. Then she cramps, leans over holding her stomach.

"Ow...okay, probably shouldn't have done that."

"You **are** still pretty beaten up, yeah."

"Guess I should get used to it _now_ while I still can."

"...So, why are you agreeing to do this in the first place?"

Misato quirks a brow,  
"What do you mean?"

"I mean...obviously this whole thing is way above your paygrade...and you don't seem to respect it at all--"

"I don't."

"--So... _that being said_...I just wonder why you've decided to stay...even _with_ the surveillance in mind."

Misato searches her brain for an answer to that. What reason, other than convenience, is she doing something she loathes. Something she's doing for people she doesn't trust in the least. Something that's being led by a _maniac_ who she thinks seriously needs to have her morality checked. When she flits through all the possible images her brain can show her, her mind keeps returning to a frightened girl. A blonde girl aching on the floor who seems like one more straw could break her back, and leave her strewn about for the buzzards to pick apart. Misato thinks about the pain she saw in that girl's movements, heard in her voice...and she looks up to the man seated in front of her.

"No special reason, really."

* * *

(Sorry for the delay, this chapter! My laptop unceremoniously died a couple of months ago and took my plot outline with it. Fortunately, I was finally able to recover my data, so I can start again! I hope this chapter was worth the wait!)


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